I'm thrilled. I'm proud. I'm grateful. I've laughed and cried and happy-danced about it. I'm also a nervous wreck that I'll never do it again. That's one heck of a lot of emotion and random thoughts banging around in the head of a woman who is trying to write. I already have so many things going on in my head I wonder when it will explode. Or maybe it has.
I'm working on the next Deputy Ricos tale and planning the next and so on. It's not enough to win an award. I have to keep writing. And OMG, the pressure to make it measure up.
It all began so innocently. Well, it wasn't 100% innocence. I wanted a woman to die and I killed her. End of story, right? Wrong. I opened a dam.
Sometimes when I sit staring at my uncooperative laptop (it won't write unless I'm typing on it) I wonder if I'm doing the right thing. What have I started?